Failed Experiment
by Michelle-And-The-Beatle
Summary: John and Molly take Sherlock apart after one of his experiments makes their lives difficult. Please Enjoy!


"SHERLOCK!" John Watson's voice bellowed from somewhere in the flat, presumably from the stairs.

Said consulting detective was sitting in his armchair, fingers steepled, eyes closed. His couldn't miss the tone John was using, which meant he found something Sherlock had done and didn't quite agree with it. But as the footsteps got closer, he noticed that there was someone with John. The door to the flat opened, John stepping in, followed by Molly Hooper. They were both out of breath and fuming. Sherlock kept his stance, not budging.

"Sherlock..." John said calmer this time. The taller man did not answer. Then Molly tried her hand, "Sherlock," she commanded. That's when Sherlock snapped out of whatever trance he was in and looked at the two people by the door.

"I heard you the first time. John, you really shouldn't yell around the flat, Mrs. Hudson will think something is wrong."

"Sherlock, what dd you do to the bodies?"

"The what?"

"The bodies at the hospital."

"Oh, those bodies... Just an experiment. Did you like it? I found it quite rewarding. It tested my theory that make-up could not remain on corpses for more than a week. Did it discolor the skin? Oh, I know it did," Sherlock went on, using arm gestures freely. John and Molly did not look the least bit amused.

"Why on earth would you test something like that?" John asked.

"You never realize what people can do to those they've killed," Sherlock uncrossed his legs, "If they want to disguise them post-mortem, they use makeup. Quite a heavy layer, though not as obvious as mine, unless they were doing it for theatrical reasons. That's why you saw so many bright colors on my bodies, to easier see the effects."

"Yes, it's all very nice, but why _all_ of the bodies, Sherlock?" Molly asked, not dropping her gaze from the consulting detective.

"Simple, really. To conduct an experiment you must have multiple independent variables. Those were the various bodies. And do tell me when the makeup clears up completely, I need to record the exact moment it fades."

John exchanged glances with Molly, neither one happy about this. Sherlock noticed and rolled his eyes, "I don't understand why you are both so upset, those bodies were picked because they were useless. They would never be used in any investigations except for mine. You're welcome for that, by the way."

"How do you want to deal with this, Molly?" John asked. Molly looked Sherlock up and down, narrowing her eyes in thought.

"Dunno... he's your flatmate. What peeves him most?"

John pondered that for a short while. Then he grinned wickedly and whispered something into Molly's ear which Sherlock didn't catch. But what he did overhear was the bit with John saying, "Follow my lead."

"You know you're going to have to pay," John slowly approached the man still sitting in the armchair.

"For scientific curiosity and benefit? Really, John, I think it is highly- AH!" Sherlock was revving up for a huge speech to defend his actions when all of a sudden John grabbed him by the shirt collar, pulled him off the chair, and practically threw him on the ground. The ex-soldier then pinned him to the floor. Molly came over to the two of them, grinning. She knelt next to John and Sherlock as much as her skirt would allow her.

"Molly, if there is anything you should know about Sherlock Holmes, it's what to do when he's acting like a complete git."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "John, that's all the time, and you hardly ever do anything about it."

"That's not entirely true. You see, when I do _this_," John demonstrated by jamming his fingers into Sherlock's sides, "It shuts him up."

Sherlock had scrunched up his face and jerked a bit, but that was all. It certainly did make him close his mouth. Then John lightly skittered his fingers up and down his friend's sides. Sherlock grunted and a half-smile broke through his features.

"Molly, please feel free to help out. He's not going anywhere," John smiled at her and she grinned back. Using her nails, she dragged them across and wiggled them in between the spaces of Sherlock's ribs. His tight, thin shirt did him no favors in this situation.

"Mohohoholly! Hahahaha, nohoho!" Sherlock jerked, but John was much stronger than him. He hypothesized that it had to be because the tickling was making him weaker. Yes, that was it...

"Get his stomach, John," Molly smirked at her current partner. John didn't hesitate to abandon one of Sherlock's sides to wiggle his fingers on his belly. Sherlock actually jumped at that and his laughter rose after a quick snort escaped.

"StohohHOHOP IHIT! THIHIS ihisn't funnhihihiHIHIHY! HA! JOHN, NO!"

Sherlock was now struggling harder once the ex-soldier brushed over his belly button. John caught notice of this, and so did Molly as she was still mercilessly tickling his ribs.

"Oh, what was that, Sherlock?" John rolled up his dress shirt as much as he could, until it was revealing the pale stomach of the detective. Then he used a single finger to swirl it around the outside of his belly as well as poking it inside every once in a while. He squealed before dissolving into even more strings of giggles, higher in pitch than before. Both Molly and John agreed that Sherlock had the most adorable laugh.

"Want to apologize for what you did yet?" Molly taunted, managing to feign out of something so Sherlock was unaware, and then plunged into his underarm. Sherlock practically screamed in laughter by that point.

"NOHOHOHO! MOHOLLY PLEHEHEHEASE!" Sherlock started to plead with his offenders.

"Was that... _begging_ I heard?" John asked in mock-shock.

"I don't know. It couldn't have been!" Molly played along with John, "Were you begging?"

Sherlock shook his head frantically, not wanting to admit it.

"No? Then we must have been hearing things, John."

"Afraid so," John leaned down so he could experimentally squeeze at Sherlock's kneecaps. The detective jerked his leg and squirmed more wildly.

"JohohAHAHAN! MOLLEEHEEHY!" Sherlock squealed and laughed harder when Molly kept one hand tickling under his arm and her other spidered over his neck.

"Are you going to test on the bodies again?" she asked, smirking. Sherlock shook his head through his high-pitched laughter.

"Didn't quite hear that, Sherlock," John now moved to the detective's socked feet. Sherlock screamed before throwing back his head in laughter.

"YEHEHES! I WOHON'T DO IT AGAHAHAIN!" Sherlock tried kicking and using his arms to shield his ticklish torso, but it wasn't working.

"Promise?" Molly asked, going to try out his hips, which proved to be a very effective sweet spot.

"NOSTOP MOLLYYYY! HAHAHAHAHA! O-OKAY OKAHAHAY!"

"I'll stop once you promise. I didn't understand that. Really, Sherlock, being quite a linguist you don't do yourself justice like this," Molly smiled when she drilled her thumbs into his hip bones. John started chuckling.

"HAHAHA PRO-PROMIHIHISE! PLEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAP!"

And true to her word, Molly climbed off of the dark-haired man. But John, however, was still going at it, wiggling his fingers at the bases of Sherlock's toes.

"JohohohoHON! GEHET OFF!" Sherlock laughed still. Molly saw that he was turning visibly red, so she rested a hand on John's shoulder. She smiled at him and he looked up, finally realizing he went a bit overboard. He released Sherlock's ankles. They left him there, panting and giggling.

When he calmed down enough, Sherlock spoke from the floor, "C-Can I still look at them to conclude my experiment? I must accept or reject my hypothesis, otherwise it would not have been a real experiment."

Molly rolled her eyes but replied with, "Of course."

Sherlock nodded and flopped back onto the floor. He would remember never to test things around either Molly or John again.

_~The End~_


End file.
